


and Pilate saith unto them, behold the man

by TittyAlways



Category: D.Gray-man
Genre: Comfort, M/M, Mutual adoration, theyre literally so in love with each other what the fuck
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-20
Updated: 2017-02-20
Packaged: 2018-09-25 17:27:10
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,191
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9834413
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TittyAlways/pseuds/TittyAlways
Summary: Tyki's scars areburning.





	

**Author's Note:**

> ive needed some tykillen fluff for a _really long time_ and got sick of there not being any so i went and wrote it my own damn self lmao
> 
> also thx @lea for always letting me spam nonsensical aus at u and being a pillar of wholesome tykillen love :""

Allen stirred deep in the night when his drowsy body realised his face wasn't pressed against Tyki's warm back and his arms weren't curled around his stomach. He sucked in a deep breath, brought a hand up to rub at the eyes he had difficulty opening. His eyelids were heavy - too heavy for him to hold open.

"Tyki?" he murmured, voice low and rough with sleep. He squinted into the darkness of the room and caught a shadow hunched at the edge of the bed. "Tyki," he sat up, trying to sound more awake than he was, "is everything okay?"

"Go back to sleep, boy," was the quiet reply, words clipped and voice stilted.

Allen found his concern had almost cured his eyes of their heaviness and decided there really was no way for him to sleep like that. Instead, he crawled over to Tyki and placed his chin on the Noah's shoulder, kissed his neck while his arms came to wrap around his chest. "Tyki," he hummed, half scolding and half concerned. 

Tyki caught Allen's left hand before it could touch his skin and Allen sat back a little, wondered if he'd push him away. But Tyki only pressed their hands to the bed and traced his fingers over the ridges and edges of Allen's Innocence. 

"Tyki," Allen murmured, less a request than a demand this time. "What is it?" he asked, pressed his forehead to his lover's shoulder and watched his right hand brush softly over the jagged scars on his back.

"Hurts," Tyki finally choked out in a whisper, hand clenched over his chest. "The scars," he gritted out, shuddering with repressed pain or anger or  _ something _ . "Like I can feel it -  _ burning _ me. From the inside." 

Allen's drifting hand stilled and his eyes slipped closed. He lowered his head, pressed his lips against Tyki's shoulder where his Innocence had torn through it. "Let me kiss it better?" he asked against Tyki's skin, eyes scrunched shut against the flood of emotion that threatened to momentarily drown him.

Tyki huffed a sharp laugh and he laced his fingers between Allen’s, kept their hands pressed against the mattress. "Don't use your Innocence," he said, more of a request than a demand.

Allen traced his right hand over the Noah's shoulder to the hand he clenched over his heart, slid his fingers between Tyki's and smoothed out his fist. He leaned forward, his chest against Tyki's back, and pulled his hand away from the aching scars. His lips pressed against the knotted skin encircling his wrist and Allen gently directed Tyki’s hand this way and that to cover the whole thing in feather-light kisses. He rested with his lips at Tyki's pulse point, closed his eyes and breathed in time with his heartbeat. "Tyki..." he murmured against his skin.

"Don't," he commanded. "Don't apologise for this." He pulled in a deep shuddering breath, still aching, and reasoned quietly, "Neither of us want that."

Without a word Allen gently brought Tyki's hand to rest on the bed beside them. He traced his fingers up the older man's arm, brushed his thumb against the scar circling Tyki's bicep. He could remember the moment it happened, still. The sudden shatter and give of the weaponised Tease cracking, the brief moment of resistance before his Crown Clown cut seamlessly through Tyki's wrist, his arm, his   _ body _ . And the expression on his face - almost nonplussed before the pain set in. 

“Is it possible," Allen asked quietly, leaning in to press those fluttering kisses against Tyki's arm, "to regret the result of an action, but not the action itself?"

Tyki laughed as though Allen was his own little enigma. "Well," he reasoned, thumb tracing against the smooth-rock texture of Allen's hand, "Do you?"

"Yeah," he whispered a little sadly against Tyki's shoulder. "I do."

It was easy to line tiny little kisses like guards to pain along the scar banding across Tyki's back, with the way he was curled in on himself.

"Hey," Allen murmured, "lay down for me?" He shuffled out of the way and pressed a hand against Tyki’s chest to urge the Noah into lying back. 

He gave in easily, falling back onto the mattress with an exhausted huff and pulling Allen's hand with him. He held it up to the sliver of moonlight falling through the curtains and Allen felt his chest tighten at the silent appraisal in Tyki's eyes. "I hate it," he said quietly, directing Allen to turn his wrist so the moon could pool in his palm. "It's every bit a part of you as the things I love," Tyki mused into Allen's silence, all his quiet focus on the segmented black fingers, the milky white nails. Claws, almost. "It's beautiful, like this," he whispered and brought the Innocence to his face, pressed his lips to the tips of each of Allen's fingers, one by one.

He twined his own fingers between Allen's again and reached for the Exorcist's face. Allen tilted his cheek into Tyki's hand, let himself be pulled on top of the Noah.

"I love it," Tyki murmured with Allen sitting on his stomach, looking up at him with something like adoration, or reverence, "because it's part of you."

"You would destroy it, given the chance," Allen returned with slight smile, rested his fingertips against the silk curve of Tyki’s lip.

"I have the chance now," Tyki murmured and pressed the back of Allen's hand to his mouth, mapping the Innocence shard embedded there with a kiss.

"Tyki Mikk," he laughed quietly and leaned down to kiss the stigma lining his lover's forehead, "you sap." He felt Tyki's smile against the back of his hand and let himself settle in atop the Noah's chest, head resting on his shoulder. 

Tyki still held his hand, his left arm curled around Allen's back. His breaths were steady and his eyes were closed and there was a small smile sitting on the corners of his lips. The pain had subsided, or maybe it simply didn’t matter anymore. Allen watched him quietly, let his eyes follow the planes and angles of his aristocratic face. Beautiful, in this light. In any light. He could barely distinguish the pretty mole under Tyki’s eye through the shadows cast by his long lashes, but Allen would be able to find it blind. 

He brushed a hand through Tyki's long hair, pushed it back from the stigma on his forehead. These scars were indented, slightly. As though they'd been carved out of his skin. Sometimes he wore them like a crown, his hair pulled back and chin held high. Like a crown of thorns twisted together on his brow. Hail, the king of humanity. Allen lifted himself up on his elbows, disengaging his left hand from Tyki's.

"Take him yourselves," he murmured and placed the black hand he hated so much on Tyki's cheek, smoothed his thumb across the Noah's cheekbone, "and crucify him." Tyki's eyes slipped open and he watched Allen's face carefully in the dark. "For I find no crime in him," he quoted and lowered his head, his lips pressed gently to Tyki's.


End file.
